


(Not) A Lone Wolf

by Lunatical



Series: Of Vampires and Werewolves [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Not Canon Compliant, Team as Family, Touch-Starved Bucky Barnes, Vampire Tony Stark, Werewolf Bucky Barnes, and he gets it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-19 05:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13116606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunatical/pseuds/Lunatical
Summary: The Avengers had been a team for almost four years before Steve had found and rescued Bucky, and they had been living together since basically day one. They had worked, fought and lived together forfour years. Bucky’s six months in the tower appeared almost insignificant in comparison, and he could see that in the way the team was around each other: the ease between them, the physical contact, the jokes, the bright smiles, the trust.Somewhere along the line, the Avengers had become a family, and Bucky was not a part of it.(For the prompts: "Everyone lives together happily in the Tower AU and Bucky is having trouble feeling like he belongs. Tony slowly wins him over" + "Magic of any sort")





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [james](https://archiveofourown.org/users/james/gifts).



Living in the tower was… strange, to say the least.

For the first few months of his stay, Bucky didn’t leave his and Steve’s floor. The nightmares and the memories were terrifying and all-consuming, and the last remains of his conditioning made him dangerous and unstable: Steve’s floor had been littered with scratches and broken furniture for _weeks_ when Bucky had first been found, broken and terrified.

So it was understandable when he chose to avoid the team at first. He needed to get better, and work through seventy years of torture, and Steve _understood_. He knew how it felt to be thrown into a different world without an anchor to hold on to, so he didn’t say anything, didn’t pressure Bucky into leaving his room, offered his help whenever possible and always made sure that Bucky knew he was there for him. And slowly but surely, Bucky started to get better, his nightmares started to lessen, his memories came back to him every day a bit more and he stopped being so broken and scared.

Steve was proud, and happy, and relieved. And Bucky was too.

But he still felt like a stranger in the tower.

***

The thing is, living with other people is hard.

Bucky knew that, _rationally_ he knew that: he was traumatized, and so was everyone else on the team, and damaged people don’t trust easily.

But see, the thing is, that wasn’t really true. Not in their case, anyways.

The Avengers had been a team for almost four years before Steve had found and rescued Bucky, and they had been living together since basically day one. They had worked, fought and lived together for _four years_. Bucky’s six months in the tower appeared almost insignificant in comparison, and he could see that in the way the team was around each other: the ease between them, the physical contact, the jokes, the bright smiles, the _trust_.

Somewhere along the line, the Avengers had become a family, and Bucky was not a part of it.

But still, he soldiered on: he went to movie nights, ate in the common room, and trained with Steve when the others were in the gym. He tried his hardest to become part of the group, partly because he was jealous of what he saw, and partly because his wolf, after being denied any form of companionship for seventy years, was desperate to finally find a pack.

Unfortunately, none of it seemed to work: Bucky knew that the team was trying to include him in their group, he could see their efforts and he was grateful for them, but he still didn’t miss the way they always made sure to give him space; how the atmosphere turned slightly awkward when he was present; how Natasha’s hand always twitched for a weapon when he entered the room unannounced.

He noticed all of that, and the wolf inside him wanted to howl in pain every time he watched them acting like a family without him, but it was fine.

He didn’t even deserve the forgiveness he _had_ received, let alone ask for more.

It didn’t matter that he felt like an intruder inside the tower. It was fine if he didn’t belong.

It was _fine._

***

“Morning, Buck,” Steve greeted him as he walked into the common room, glancing over his shoulder and smiling before turning back to the stove. He was cooking breakfast for the team, which was gathered around the kitchen in various states of awakeness.

As always, Steve was the most energetic of them all, probably as a result of what once was his shifter’s biology. Bucky still remembered when his best friend was just a little kid, so sick and frail that his animal counterpart was basically a ball of feathers and bones… but of course, Steve wasn’t a scrawny chicken anymore: the super-soldier serum had cured him of all his illnesses, and it had also turned him into a gryphon, technically making him the first human-bred shifter in the history of mankind.

To be honest, Bucky still saw him as his fierce, scrawny chicken.

He grunted in response, his werewolf self much less happy to be awake before noon, and took a seat at the kitchen table where Sam was staring at his bowl of oatmeal as though it contained the secrets of the universe. Immediately, Steve shoved a good amount of bacon on Bucky’s plate, together with what smelled like scrambled eggs with spinach. Bucky crinkled his nose, pushing them away to dive into his bacon, and pointedly ignored Steve grumbling something about a “damn werewolf who eats nothing but meat” as he turned around to make breakfast for the rest of the team.

The Avengers, Bucky had found out, tended to flock to the common room whenever they had any free time, and they tried to eat together as much as possible. It wasn’t always manageable since they were all active-duty superheroes, secret agents, scientists and/or owners of multi-billionaire companies… but, instead of stopping them, that only seemed to spite them into spending as much time together as possible.

To be fair, Bucky mused as he watched them walk around the room, part of it was probably because most members of the team were social creatures.

Natasha, like every other dragon, tended to hoard things. In her case, three particular things: weapons, dresses, and people. She was very protective of all three, which proved useful in battle, but less useful whenever she caught Clint stealing her stuff.

(Bucky will never forget the first time he witnessed Clint, who was wearing one of Natasha’s purple dresses, run into the common room with a fully shifted Natasha hot on his heels. _Literally_ hot on his heels, since she was spewing fire everywhere. Tony had not been impressed with them, and even Natasha had seemed seriously worried when they realized she had burned his Persian carpet. If you were to ask Bucky, whoever said that Tony wasn’t terrifying was either blind or very, very stupid.)

Clint was also prone to gathering in big groups, since pixies in general tended to live with as many of their kind as possible. That made Clint an exception to the rule, because few pixies lived in big cities like New York, choosing instead to inhabit greener and more natural places. Clint tended to overcompensate his need for companionship by staying close to the other Avengers as much as possible, and by “borrowing” their stuff to fill his hiding places. The tower also had an ongoing prank war which was introduced by the archer himself as a “tradition of his people”, and which almost ended in disaster more times than Bucky cared to count.

(Bucky didn’t miss the fact that no one had never, ever pranked him. He tried to act like it didn’t matter, but it still _hurt_.)

Steve’s love for his friends had more to do with his personality than his biology. Bucky remembered enough details from his past to know how Steve always seemed to thrive in small groups of close friends, like the Commandos had been and like the Avengers were now. It was nice, seeing his brother so happy.

(He told those same words to Steve one night, after remembering an old memory from their past. It was a mistake. Steve cried and hugged Bucky for three hours. Bucky didn’t know what to do, so in the end he cried too. It was a mess.)

Bruce was hard to figure out. He was, technically, a human, and although his mutation had given him orc blood, it only seemed to appear when he transformed into the Hulk. Bucky didn’t understand how any of it worked, but he didn’t really care, because Bruce was awesome: he was calm, and nice, and soft spoken, and didn’t seem to fear Bucky. It was amazing, because even though the doctor had never actively tried to seek Bucky’s company, he’d never avoided it either.

(Bucky had thought that Bruce was naturally shy, but after seeing him interact with Tony and hang out with Natasha he realized that he was probably only shy around him.)

Sam was kind of a mystery, to be honest. His kind were rare and mostly solitary, so much that Bucky had only met a couple of miengu in his life: they looked just like mermaids, and he remembered finding one of them during a Hydra mission targeting Wakanda. His handlers hadn’t managed to even _find_ the place and had somehow ended up in a forest in Cameroon instead. It was there that they came across a jengu. She looked young and beautiful, and killed five of Hydra’s agents before disappearing under the water. Bucky thought that Sam was kind of strange, because although he was a water-creature, he seemed to prefer flight. Really, the only thing that made him recognizable as a jengu was his gap-teeth and his healing powers, and Sam was…

Currently staring at him.

“You alright, man?” Sam sounded kind of worried, and Bucky belatedly realized he must have been scowling at him for quite some time.

He forced his eyes down, frowning at his bacon as he felt the weight of everyone’s gaze on him.

“Yes,” he said, trying not to sound too sharp. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no problem, you were just getting kind of… intense.”

Bucky hunched his shoulders, still feeling their eyes on him, his instincts screaming at him to _run, hide, leave_ , when the elevator opened and Tony came stumbling out.

The vampire had clearly just pulled a workshop binge, judging by the way he was covered in grease and motor oil from head to toe and barely able to walk. He yawned and made a beeline for the fridge, mumbling a “good morning” that was chorused by his teammates.

With the focus finally off him, Bucky felt himself relax, and allowed himself a couple of seconds to simply look at Tony. The man had always fascinated him, and Bucky had to smother the stab of guilt that followed the thought: out of all the Avengers, Tony was probably the one with the most reasons to hate him, and Bucky would have deserved it if he did.

Instead, Tony had been nothing but welcoming since Bucky had arrived, giving him a whole floor and not even blinking when he had refused it for those first few months he had spent in Steve’s room. Tony had offered Bucky free maintenance on his arm whenever he wanted, hell, he had even offered to build him a new, better version of his arm.

Bucky had refused again, too guilty and traumatized to even consider accepting the offer, and once again Tony had simply nodded and let him be.

Bucky thought Tony was pretty amazing, and that had nothing to do with how fucking _handsome_ Tony was. Lean but muscular, with his dark hair that always curled so prettily, and his brown eyes, and his stupidly long eyelashes, and his adorable fangs and _that perfect bubble butt_ -

Bucky snapped back to himself as the owner of that very same butt plopped down on the seat next to him, holding a sack of blood fresh out of the fridge. Tony usually drank his blood from cups or, when he was feeling especially fancy, wine glasses, but if he went without food for a while he was often too tired to care and just drank straight from the sack.

Today it seemed like he was definitely too tired to care.

Sensing his gaze, Tony looked up and smiled at Bucky, kind of dopily, before slowly raising his hand and patting Bucky once on the head. “Hello, Bucky boy,” he said, slurring his words just the tiniest bit, before turning around, grabbing the sack of blood and sinking his fangs in it.

He didn’t seem to notice how everyone in the room had stopped, shocked by what they had seen.

Bucky was frozen in shock as well, because that… that had been the first time a member of the team other than Steve had touched him like that, soft and affectionate and-

He realized, to his mortification, that his ears and tail had popped out and he had started to growl softly, his wolf feeling ridiculously pleased by what had happened.

He shot to his feet, chair scraping on the floor, and bolted from the room, ignoring Steve’s voice calling after him.

***

After the accident, Bucky had secluded himself inside his room for a couple of days. At first, Steve had tried to coax him out, but Bucky had been unmovable; in the end the Captain had reluctantly given up, leaving Bucky to wallow in his self-pity.

He was so used to the silence that, when on the third day someone knocked on his door, Bucky startled so bad he instinctively hid under the covers. After a few seconds, he peeked out from under his blanket, frowning at the door. He hadn’t heard a heartbeat approaching, which meant…

“Bucky?” came Tony’s voice. “Uh, are you- are you in there?”

He sounded nervous, Bucky realized, and Tony only ever sounded nervous when there were feelings involved, which meant he was probably there to confront Bucky about what had happened.

For a split second, he debated ignoring the man at his door to spare himself the shame, but for all his flaws (and God, did he have a lot), Bucky had never considered himself a coward, so he decided to get up and face the consequences of his mistakes.

It was the least he could do after everything Tony had done for him.

Shuffling out of the blankets, he quickly made his way over to the door and opened it, and promptly found himself with Tony’s fist smacking him in the chest.

For a second, both men looked down at Tony’s hand, before the vampire scrambled back and almost fell over his own feet. “Sorry! Sorry, I was knocking again. I didn’t mean to hit you, obviously.” Tony looked kind of scared, and he was starting to ramble, which was another sign of his nervousness.

Bucky had to bite back a whine. He was totally there to yell at him.

“What do you want?” he asked, wincing slightly when it came out sharper than he intended.

Tony seemed to notice his tone as well and immediately deflated, looking for all purposes like a kicked puppy, before visibly steeling himself and straightening his posture. “I came here to apologize,” he said, firmly standing his ground.

And that… was not what Bucky was expecting.

For an instant he was too startled to even react, and Tony seemed to take his silence as a bad sign, because as each second went by he seemed to lose his confidence and he started to fidget and shuffle his feet. When it became clear that Bucky was not, in fact, going to say anything, he continued to ramble on.

“The team has informed me that the other day I apparently decided to pet you in a fit of sleep deprivation? Which, to be fair, I don’t remember doing, because the last clear memory I have is leaving the workshop, but you’re clearly mad at me and the others will have my head on a plate if I don’t fix this, so I just-”

“I’m not mad at you.”

Bucky watched with a weird sense of wonder as Tony’s mouth snapped shut, then opened again, then closed again, making the vampire look like a fish out of the water.

“What?” he finally asked, clearly confused.

“I’m not mad at you,” Bucky repeated, slower this time. “I was just… ah, embarrassed.”

Tony was looking more and more confused as each second went by, and it was Bucky’s turn to fidget nervously.

“I- I actually liked it too much, if I’m being honest.”

“What.” Tony repeated, with absolutely no inflection in his voice.

“Not like that!” Bucky rushed to explain. “It’s just…” he struggled, not knowing how to explain it and not even knowing if he wanted to. “No one on the team ever touches me, which is fine, I understand why they don’t like me. But I’m a werewolf, you know? I haven’t had a pack in so long, and I love Steve, but he can only do so much… so I kind of lost control there for a second.”

Tony didn’t reply for way too long and kept staring blankly at him, making Bucky hunch further into himself, trying to disappear.

“’m sorry,” he said after a while, hoping to get at least some kind of acknowledgement.

That seemed to snap Tony out of his stupor, because with a “hell no” he grabbed Bucky’s arm and started to drag him towards the elevator.

Bucky weakly tried to protest, but even a small gesture like a hand on his arm was enough to make his wolf ecstatic, so he simply followed Tony and listened as he kept grumbling under his breath.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Tony let Bucky go, stepping inside and gesturing for Bucky to follow him.

Bucky was, frankly, somewhere between completely bewildered and absolutely terrified. Tony seemed angry, which was never a good sign, but he also didn’t seem angry _at_ Bucky, which was kind of confusing.

“Where are we going?” Bucky asked when the silence started to stretch.

Tony startled, seemingly not having realized they weren’t moving, and quickly apologized. “Sorry, I got lost in thought. J, team meeting in the common room. Now. And place an order for pizza, you know what to get.”

“Done and done, Sir,” the AI replied after a second. “If I might, Sergeant Barnes’ heartrate is elevated and he is showing signs of distress.”

Bucky glared at the ceiling, feeling weirdly betrayed, and jumped away when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Tony began with a soothing voice, “sorry I’m not doing this right. I’m just making things worse, aren’t I? I should have explained before dragging you here.” He continued to talk as he inched closer to where Bucky was scowling at him. “We’re going to the common room because there’s been a misunderstanding, but I can’t really explain it on my own.”

Bucky took another step back, wary, but stopped when he noticed how Tony was trying to appear non-threatening, lowering his head and slightly baring his neck… and while those were both textbook behaviors for approaching agitated werewolves, Bucky had never seen a vampire willingly bare his neck to a wolf before. Letting someone touch their neck was one of the most extreme signs of trust for vampires, especially for those who had been turned against their will like Tony. The gesture was so unexpected that Bucky unconsciously relaxed into a more open stance, though he remained wary.

He stared at Tony for a second, calculating, before asking the question that had been rolling around his brain since they had gotten into the elevator.

“Will there be some kind of punishment?”

If the horror on Tony face hadn’t been answer enough, the way his fingers twitched towards the bites on his neck would have been a dead giveaway.

“No!” Tony said, sounding extremely upset. “ _No_ , Bucky. I told you when you first came here that this tower was your home, and I’m not… I wouldn’t do that to anyone, let alone _you_.”

It was a pity that Tony didn’t have a heartbeat, because Bucky would have given his other arm to be able to tell if the man was lying or not. But very few people could deceive the Winter Soldier, and while Tony might have been one of them, not even he could fake emotions as genuine-looking as those.

Unfortunately, Tony seemed to take Bucky’s silence as a bad sign ( _again_ , Bucky thought, making a mental note to figure out the reason behind it), because he let his shoulders drop, defeated.

“I don’t know how to convince you,” he said, looking sincerely remorseful, “so you’ll just have to trust me on this.” He glanced up, meeting Bucky’s eyes. “Do you trust me? If not, say the word, and this elevator will stop.”

Bucky weighed his options, considering all the possible outcomes, but there was no real doubt in his mind. “Yes,” he finally said, straightening up. “I trust you.”

Tony sighed in relief and straightened up as well just as the elevator arrived on the common floor, and then proceeded to place a hand on Bucky’s back and gently steer him into the room.

The whole team was gathered there, some standing and some sitting on the couches, and Bucky could read the worry on each of their faces. He sniffed the air and was hit with a wave of general confusion and anxiety, but his wolf didn’t even stir at the scent of distressed pack. It would have been worrying, if it weren’t for how strangely calm and settled he was feeling.

He worried for a second that the Soldier was maybe taking over, but quickly dismissed the thought: when the Soldier usually came out, he lost all control over his emotions, turning into a blank weapon as a human or going into Rage when shifted. But this… it was almost as if his wolf knew that something was about to change for the better, and Bucky hadn’t survived for more than seventy years by not trusting his instincts.

“Buck?”

And that was Steve, who sounded way too worried, like the mother hen he was. Bucky didn’t say anything, choosing to let Tony take the initiative.

The vampire didn’t disappoint, clapping his hand and smoothly placing himself between Bucky and the rest of the team and therefore implicitly taking the role of the mediator.

“Ok everyone, listen up. There has been a severe misunderstanding between us and Terminator over here, and I’m tired of being the only mature adult in this situation, so now we’re all going to talk and solve our issues like rational individuals.”

The entire team was silent for a second, and ( _again_ , how did he never notice?) Tony took that as a cue to continue talking, so he spun around and looked at Bucky, softening his expression.

“Now, Buck-o, tell them what you told me earlier.”

Bucky cocked his head, replaying their conversation in his head. “Which part?” he asked.

Tony waved his hands around, scrunching up his nose in a frankly adorable way. “After my apology and the whole ‘I liked it too much’ thing, you know?”

Bucky furrowed his brow, but diligently looked up to meet the others’ eyes. He felt a tingle of nerves go down his spine, but not in a ‘oh god this is terrible’ way: his instincts were telling him _this is good, this is the moment_ , so he just shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and said “Tony came to apologize to me earlier and I told him that I wasn’t mad at him, that I lost control of my shift because my wolf craves physical contact and no one has been touching me, but I understand why you don’t like me, and I don’t blame you for not wanting me as part of your pack.”

After Bucky finished he simply stood there, waiting for a reaction. The silence that followed was deafening, and he suddenly understood why Tony couldn’t seem to stand it.

Steve was staring at him with his mouth hanging open, and Bucky could hear his heartbeat going crazy from the other side of the room. Natasha and Clint had matching blank expressions, appropriately reacting like the trained secret agents they both were, whereas Sam looked openly dismayed and Bruce was even going a little green around the edges.

It was Tony who, unsurprisingly, broke the silence again.

“Yeah, that was my reaction as well,” he said. He sighed and scrubbed at his face. “So, we screwed up. Now we have to fix it.”

“Bucky…” Steve began, but he was quickly cut off by Natasha.

“Explain to us why you think that.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, surprised: for some reason, he hadn’t expected them to accept his feelings so quickly. He swallowed, slightly uncomfortable: just explaining the situation was one thing, but delving into his own emotions and thought-process was something he had never been used to before the war, and something that was definitely unacceptable after.

He shrugged. “You guys have been a team for a long time, and I can see how you’ve all become a pack, but I’m just… here. You’re all uncomfortable around me, and even when you try to include me- and I know you all do- it feels… forced. And then, you always avoid touching me, and I… werewolves need contact, you know? Even lone ‘wolves try to find surrogate packs, and I’ve been alone for seventy years.”

Steve’s face fell at that, and Bucky immediately felt like an asshole. He lowered his gaze and hunched his shoulders, all the confidence from before suddenly disappearing. His wolf was still calm, but his human side, the rational one, was freaking out.

He was pathetic, acting like an egoistic, needy child. Was he seriously asking for their pity like that?

 _You’re not forcing them to do anything,_ he told himself, _just clearing things out_.

But there was still a part of him screaming at him that he was just guilting them into giving him what he wanted, like a manipulative bastard, and that showing his emotion like that was an unacceptable weakness. And while he knew the second thought was his conditioning speaking, he really had no answer to the first.

All of a sudden, two hands were on his cheeks, and Tony’s face appeared in front of his.

“None of that,” he said sternly, and Bucky realized he had blanked out for a few seconds. His eyes skimmed over the rest of the team, but they were still looking at them from their positions around the room.

He focused his attention back on Tony: his hands felt like two bright, warm points on Bucky’s face, even though Tony was technically a lot colder than him, and Bucky had to struggle not to give into temptation and nuzzle them.

Even if with some difficulty, he was being mostly successful… but then Tony did something with his thumb, rubbing it in a small circle right on Bucky’s cheekbone, and Bucky was gone. With a full-body shudder, his eyes fell shut and he leaned his entire weight forward until his face slipped from Tony’s hands, ending up on the juncture between his neck and his shoulder.

The vampire wobbled a bit, taken by surprise, but quickly found his footing again. He was so _real_ and solid, and Bucky couldn’t help but nuzzle his neck. Tony froze for a second, and everyone else in the room tensed up. Bucky noticed, even through the haze in his brain, and started to lean back, fighting all of his instincts which were screaming at him to stay there where he was, when Tony’s hand grabbed his head and pushed him down again. He went more than willingly, only realizing he was whining softly when Tony swore under his breath.

“Ok, big guy,” the vampire said. “Up, c’mon.”

His hands patted the back of Bucky’s thighs, and Bucky made a confused sound.

“Up,” Tony repeated, “I’m carrying you to the couch.” Then, he bent his legs and slipped his arms under Bucky’s butt. The werewolf had barely enough time to throw his arms around Tony’s shoulders, and then he was being carried around the sofa, hanging on like a koala. It was a bit awkward, with their height difference and all, but Tony was strong enough to get him to the couch before gently placing Bucky down on it. He made to stand up again, but Bucky tightened his hold on him, not willing to let go.

“Sorry, sorry, that was my bad,” Tony said in a soothing voice, climbing on Bucky’s lap when the werewolf refused to let him go. “We should have probably done this _before_ making you talk, huh?”

Bucky nodded wordlessly, and jumped a bit when the couch dipped beside him and he found himself being pulled into a sideways hug. He removed his face from Tony’s neck long enough to glance up at Steve, who was now scratching his head, and then towards the other end of the couch where Natasha had sat down as well. One by one, all the Avengers climbed on the couch, squeezing impossibly close to each other, with Bucky right in the middle.

“I’m sorry we haven’t been making you feel like you belong, man,” Sam said after a while, “that wasn’t our intention, and it sucks that we put you through that.”

“Yeah,” continued Clint, “we were trying to give you space to recover and we didn’t even stop to think about you _wanting_ the physical contact.” He grimaced, playing with the pointy tips of his ears and avoiding everyone’s gaze. “I know what it’s like to have no family and I still didn’t realize, and you paid the price for it.”

“Let’s not turn this into a ‘whose fault is it’ witch hunt, please,” Bruce said, interrupting them. “This was a problem of miscommunication. It happens, and it sucks, but no one here is more or less guilty than the others. None of us noticed, yes, but Bucky didn’t tell us and he tried to hide it, so we had no way of knowing something was wrong: mistakes happen, now we just have to move past this and fix what wasn’t working, ok?”

The entire room was silent for a moment, each person looking at Bruce in surprise.

“That was so sexy,” Tony breathed in awe, making Bruce blush and scoff at him. “I told you, you should work as a therapist. You’d be great.”

“Bruce is right, though,” Steve continued, ignoring Tony with a fond eye roll, “us taking the blame for not realizing sooner won’t fix anything. Just know that we never meant to purposefully exclude you, Buck.”

“And that goes for all of us,” Natasha added, “not just Steve. By giving you the space we thought you needed we didn’t allow ourselves to become comfortable with your presence, and then tried to force both us and you into trusting each other.” Everyone made affirmative noises, Bucky included, so she smiled at him before continuing. “But, we’ll have time to discuss everything later on. For now, I want you all to calm down and sleep. I don’t like it when my hoard is agitated.”

“I ordered pizza,” Tony helpfully pointed out, and Natasha glared at him.

“Then I want you to calm down, eat and _then_ sleep.”

 

The pizza arrived only a few minutes later, and they somehow managed to eat while piled on the couch without making a mess. Bucky spent the whole time basking in the warmth and happiness radiating from both his wolf and the other Avengers: he could feel a tentative pack bond starting to form, aided by the physical contact, and even his human side was soaking up the others’ presence after feeling excluded for so long.

Plus, he spent the whole time with Tony in his lap, who was surrounding him with his scent and feeding him small bites of food while Bucky desperately tried not to blush, so that was definitely a big bonus for him.

After they had all eaten, they threw a few cushions on the ground in an improvised nest and rearranged themselves to sleep. Natasha started to sing a Russian lullaby, which sounded vaguely familiar to Bucky, her voice filling the silence of the room.

Bucky was warm and sated, and his wolf was happy, so he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

***

When he woke up, a few hours later, Bucky felt… settled, more than he could ever remember being. He tried to shift around, but the person resting on his chest didn’t seem to approve of his decision, judging by their grumbling. He looked down at the mop of brown curls resting on his chest and smiled. A hand suddenly landed on his face, blindly patting around until it ended up in his hair and then proceeding to scratch his head a few times before stopping and staying there. A yellow eye opened from somewhere above him.

“Sleep, Щенок,” Natasha said, her voice gravellier than usual.

He tightened his arms around Tony and went back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it is, the first chapter of this fic! I might end up writing more, if life doesn't kick me around too much lol
> 
> I hope my lovely giftee likes it! All of their prompts were amazing and I had a blast writing this :D
> 
> Translation for the russian:  
> Щенок= puppy (please correct me if I'm wrong)
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr [here](http://lunaticalwriter.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic has been lying in my WIP folder for almost a year... sorry about that. But,I'm back now!
> 
> I went and edited the first chapter as well, go back to read that too if you want to. I also have two other fics planned for this series, but I've learned my lesson with making promises I can't keep, so let's just say that you guys might, eventually, maybe, possibly, get some more fics.
> 
> Yeah...  
> Enjoy!

Waking up the next morning, Bucky had a moment of brief confusion when he didn’t immediately recognize his surroundings. Everything was a lot greener than he remembered. He looked around, squinting his eyes against the light filtering through the curtains and…

There were no curtains in the common room.

Blinking rapidly, he raised his head enough to peer at his teammates, and immediately found the source of his confusion: Natasha had fully shifted in her sleep, curling around the group in the typical way dragons do around their hoard. The dim light shining through the windows was reflecting on her scales and casting the room in a soft green hue.

Bucky shifted around, trying to take stock of his teammates, but stopped when someone whispered “Are you awake?”

He looked to his left, trying to find where Bruce’s voice had come from, and replied in an equally hushed tone, “Yeah.”

“Good. Steve fell asleep on my leg and I can’t get him off.”

Bucky couldn’t help but snort, jostling Tony who was still sleeping on his chest. The vampire startled awake, glaring at him before hissing like a disgruntled cat. The noise seemed to wake up Sam, who was leaning on Clint, and soon enough everyone was slowly blinking awake.

Clint yawned, his jaw cracking with an awfully loud sound, and scrubbed at his eyes.

“Damn, that was nicer than I thought it was going to be.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bruce chimed in, wincing as he massaged his leg, “you didn’t have a goddamn super soldier sleeping on you. I think my leg is never going to recover.”

“Language,” Tony mumbled, his face still squished on Bucky’s pec. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about, our resident wolf over here is an amazing pillow.”

Natasha huffed, opening one yellow eye to glare at them and flicking her tail in displeasure.

“Too much noise?” Sam asked, patting her side.

She huffed again before leaning up and scrolling her whole body like a wet dog. She started to shift back, grabbing a blanket to cover herself as soon as she was small enough to do so.

Shifters usually had no problems with nudity, considering how often they had to shift back to their human form butt naked, but Bruce wasn’t a fan of living with a bunch of nudists and he had established some rules for the common areas. The man in question smiled at Natasha, clearly appreciating her efforts, and she smiled back before turning towards Bucky.

“How are you feeling?”

And just like that, everyone’s focus shifted to him. Just the day before, feeling all their eyes on him would have made him want to run and hide from them, but after their Big Talk and the impromptu slumber party his wolf was already considering himself part of the pack. Now, their eyes felt more concerned and less judging.

Bucky smiled back at her. “I feel… good. Settled.”

He didn’t miss how everyone sighed in relief, but he was surprised by it: he hadn’t realized how worried they had been, and he felt kind of guilty for it. He absentmindedly started to rub Tony’s back, blushing when the vampire moaned softly and immediately stopping.

With a displeased sound, Tony slowly sat up, stretching his muscles along the way (and Bucky did _not_ stare at him as he did so) before rubbing his eyes.

“Ugh, I hate sleeping during the night. J, how long were we out for?”

“Almost twelve hours, Sir. It appears that you all needed the rest.”

The Avengers shared a few furtive glances, looking somewhere between pleased and sheepish, and Bucky could _feel_ the pack bond thrumming between them. It was something that he hadn’t felt in years- decades, really, and it made his wolf ecstatic. He felt better than he had since before he fell, and he wanted to smack himself when he realized that he could have had this for months, if he had just gotten his head out of his ass and used his words.

He sighed as the Avengers slowly started to get up, moving to the kitchen get breakfast ready, and gladly accepted Tony’s hand to raise to his feet as well.

For the first time in six months, he was actually happy to join them.

***

After that, things got steadily better.

The entire team made an effort to bond with Bucky, both in groups and one-on-one, and Bucky in turn finally started to heal.

He pushed himself to open up more, actively seeking help or advice when he felt he needed it. Bruce and Sam were both amazing listeners, and they both gave great advice. Bruce apparently had a PhD in psychology (“It was my fifth one,” the man had said, somewhat embarrassed. “With all of our issues I thought it would be helpful”) coupled with a seemingly endless supply of patience, and Sam had a ton of experience as a peer counsellor at VA dealing with fellow soldiers, so whenever they were able to they acted as his de-facto therapists.

Which was good, because Bucky didn’t think he would have been able to trust a stranger with his emotional baggage. His teammates weren’t a perfect substitute, and from time to time he still felt guilty about shoving his problems at them even though they offered to help in the first place, but it was still a lot better than the endless hours he had spent locked up in his room, with only his messed-up brain to keep away the nightmares.

 

Team bonding with Clint and Natasha involved a lot less talking and a _lot_ more weapons. The duo constantly pushed him to his limits when sparring, keeping him on his toes and truly letting him get a decent workout for the first time since Steve had taken him home. The physical exertion had the benefit of burning all of his wolf’s pent up energy, which used to be channeled in much deadlier way, while also leaving him tired and satisfied enough to just conk out on his bed as soon as he went to sleep.

Weirdly enough, fighting with and against Clint and Natasha also helped with building trust. They were all trained spies and assassins (the only three in the group who shared those skills), and they all clicked together surprisingly well, even outside the training room.

Steve was just as amazing as he had been before, and Bucky honestly didn’t know where he would have been without him. He also looked happier and more relaxed, probably thanks to the knowledge that Bucky now had an actual team to rely on.

And then, of course, there was Tony.

The vampire had been the biggest surprise of all. In a matter of weeks, he and Bucky went from tentatively building a friendship to spending all their free time together.

Bucky had immediately been fascinated by Tony’s work, especially by the bots and by JARVIS; from what he could remember of before the war, he had always loved technology, and watching Tony work was the closest thing to true wonder he had ever experienced.

Tony didn’t seem to mind the company, often too caught up to even notice it, but he was always happy to answer Bucky’s occasional question, walking him through what he was doing with an excitement that felt contagious.

They just… worked, their sharp edges fitting together like two broken pieces of the same glass. Tony was always able to read Bucky’s moods perfectly: he was bubbly and animated when Bucky was curious and excited. Softer, but not excessively careful, when Bucky was silent and withdrawn. On bad days when his handler’s voices never seemed to leave Bucky’s head, Tony kept up a constant stream of chatter, giving him something to hold on to without needing to force himself to speak, and other times they simply hung out in silence, comfortable in each other’s presence.

Soon enough, their meetings moved from the workshop to the rest of the tower, eating, sparring and generally spending time together. They watched movies on the couch, cuddling together both as humans and when Bucky was shifted. They had long talks that lasted through the night about their lives, their hopes and their fears. When Steve wasn’t home, Tony was the one he went to when he needed to chase away the nightmares, and Tony had shuffled into his room as well a couple of times, shaken and lost.

To be honest, Bucky should have seen it coming from a mile away, but he didn’t.

 

Because ignoring his feelings had always been something he excelled at, carefully not paying attention to them until they came to bite him in the ass.

***

It happened during one of their impromptu movie nights.

Tony had just gotten home from a SI meeting. He looked exhausted, the lines of his shoulders tense and rigid, and he only stopped on his way to the couch to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He shrugged out of his suit jacket, throwing it on the back of the couch before slumping down on it. He loosened his tie with the hand that was holding the glass, the other massaging his forehead. He sighed and took a sip of whiskey.

Bucky’s nose twitched at the smell of the stress that was pouring off Tony’s body. He was currently shifted, laying on one of the cushions on the floor. With a whine, he got up and trotted over to Tony.

Tony smiled at him and scratched his head, making his tail wag almost involuntarily. The wolf jumped on the couch, settling his head on Tony’s lap and looking up at him with his best puppy eyes. Tony huffed out a laugh but obligingly started to pet him, slowly relaxing in the process.

Bucky mentally rolled his eyes at his wolf’s smug contentedness, even though he himself couldn’t help but bask in the contact.

“How about a movie night, big boy?” Tony suddenly asked, scratching the wolf’s ear. “I’m feeling like watching some gratuitous violence tonight. What do you say?”

The wolf woofed once, wagging his tail to make his approval more evident, and nuzzled Tony’s stomach while he asked JARVIS to play something “gory and excessive”.

As _Spartacus_ started to play on the tv, Tony placed the glass of whiskey on the ground and buried his hands in Bucky’s fur, softly petting him. Bucky sniffed the air once, letting his tongue loll out and closing his eyes, enjoying the sensation.

The human side was lost in thought, only vaguely aware of his surroundings as it often happened in wolf form, but reality snapped back into focus when his wolf started to sniff at Tony’s hand.

 _Mate,_ his wolf suddenly thought, and Bucky paused for a second.

He sniffed again, just to make sure.

 _Mate_.

The wolf wagged his tail and settled more heavily against Tony.

Somewhere in his brain, Bucky was freaking out.

***

When he was human again, his first instinct was to hide, so he holed up in his room and proceeded to freak out about what he had discovered.

Some werewolves spent their entire lives looking for their mate: a mating bond could form during any relationship, if both parties put love and effort into it, but most ‘wolves could recognize a possible mate from scent alone if they were extremely compatible. And those mates were rare to find, maybe one or two in a lifetime, and Bucky wanted to bang his head against a wall.

Of course Tony Stark had to be a perfect fit for him.

The first idea that came to his mind was telling Tony, but he immediately scratched that. There was no way in hell Tony would be interested in a relationship –especially not with Bucky.

Even ignoring the fact that Tony was miles over his league, after what Bucky had done to Tony’s parents he had no right to even hope for Tony to love him. Bucky was already baffled by the forgiveness he had received, and he had no intention of ruining their friendship because his biology was telling him that they should be together.

And speaking of biology, mating bonds between a werewolf and a vampire were practically unheard of: the two species were considered the cats and dogs of the supernatural community, and while times had changed and friendships between the two were more common, a romantic relationship was almost absurd to consider. And sure, neither him nor Tony had ever been the type to follow the roles society had imposed on them, but they couldn’t completely ignore the impact their choices would have.

Bucky had a brief thought of the media shit-storm that would happen and whined in despair.

Really, his life was a mess.

“Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS said, startling him. “Sir would like to ask why you haven’t been to the workshop today. Is everything alright?”

Bucky closed his eyes against the surge of affection he felt. Tony was worried about him, and that made Bucky’s wolf extremely pleased.

 _Traitor_ , he whispered to himself.

“Yeah, J. Apologize to Tony on my behalf.”

A few seconds of silence, where JARVIS was probably doing just that, and then the AI added “Sir says not to worry, and to let him know if he can help in any way. He would also like to remind you that his doors are always open for you.”

“Thank you, J,” he managed to bite out, feeling tears spring to his eyes. “And thank him, as well.”

“Of course,” JARVIS replied softly, sounding more human than any AI should have the right to. “Good luck, Sergeant Barnes.”

Wiping at his eyes, Bucky stood up and walked to his door: he needed someone to help him decide what to do, and he needed a friend to hold him, so he went to Steve’s floor.

“Stevie?” he asked, knocking on his door. He heard a few shuffling sounds inside, then the door opened.

Steve took a glance at his disheveled hair and teary eyes and pulled him inside.

“JARVIS, privacy protocol, please.”

“Of course, Captain.”

Steve smiled briefly at the ceiling before turning towards Bucky. His forehead was crinkled with worry.

“Buck? Is everything ok?”

Bucky tried to reply, but once he had opened his mouth his chin trembled pathetically, so he snapped his mouth shut and shook his head. Immediately, Steve was there, hugging him and shushing him.

“Come on, come on, you’re safe here, shhhh…”

Bucky hugged him back, tightening his arms more than he would dare with anyone else. Steve didn’t even wince, squeezing him right back.

“I fucked up,” he choked out, not looking up from where his face was smashed in Steve’s neck.

“What happened?” Steve asked, leaning back with a frown.

Bucky couldn’t meet his eyes, even though he tried to. He lowered them to the ground, feeling miserable.

“Tony’s my mate.”

“… ok,” Steve continued after a second. “And? Did you tell him?”

“No!” Bucky replied, looking up in disbelief. “I know he’s not interested. After everything I’ve done…”

“Oh, Bucky…” Steve sighed, pulling him to sit on the bed. Once they had both sat down, Steve scrubbed his hands over his face.

“You know,” he started, “when I first found out that you were alive, I tried to bring you back on my own. I didn’t want anyone to end up fixing what I thought of as my problem, but-” he continued, raising a hand to stop him when Bucky tried to protest, “Sam and Nat got involved anyway. And then one day I get a call, and it’s Tony on the other end. He asked me what I was doing, and why I hadn’t called him. I tried to keep him out of it, but he wanted to help and I needed the help, so I sucked it up and accepted his offer. And then, I found the videos.”

Bucky flinched at that, and Steve smiled sadly at him. “Yeah, I wasn’t too happy either.”

He stayed silent for a while, staring at nothing with a troubled look in his eyes, and then he suddenly said, “You know, at first I thought about not telling him about the video.” He glanced at Bucky, who was frozen in shock. “I thought… well, I felt like I could protect him from reliving his pain, while still getting his help to find you. And then I immediately felt like an asshole, because Tony was my friend and he deserved to know- so I told him. And to be honest, Buck, it wasn’t pretty.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Bucky asked shakily, and he couldn’t stop the question from coming out like an accusation.

“Because I need you to understand. Tony was angry, he was… grieving. For decades he believed that Howard’s drunk driving had caused the accident, and then one day he watches a video of one of his childhood heroes choking his mother to death. At first I grimly thought that I had been right, that Tony wasn’t going to help me anymore, and I accepted it. We had an ugly fight, and I moved back to my apartment in Brooklyn. I would have left the team behind to find you, Bucky, but then…” he sighed, looking Bucky straight in the eyes and placing a hand on his arm. “Then, one week later, I open my door to find Tony standing outside of it. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and the first words to come out of his mouth were ‘I found a lead. Let’s get your sergeant back.” It was like all of his anger had never been there, like nothing had changed between us.”

Bucky was speechless. He didn’t understand the reason for Steve’s motivational speech, nor he could wrap his head around Tony’s willingness to help him. “I don’t understand,” he said.

“Yeah, I didn’t either. Then I found out than Tony had hacked into the rest of the Winter Soldier files and had probably read the entire thing. Bucky, I’m not sure you have ever realized that out of all of us, he and Natasha are the only ones who can understand what you went through. Being blamed for crimes you didn’t want to commit? Tortured by an evil organization, forced to help them kill innocent people? Having your body modified against your will?”

And Bucky immediately felt like an idiot. Of course, he knew the story of Tony’s three months in Afghanistan. Everyone did, and Tony had told him enough during their nightly conversations to give him a decent idea of what had gone down. But he had never considered the similarities between that and his own experiences.

It surely explained how they had managed to bond over shared traumas so easily.

Bucky mulled it over. “So he just… forgave me?”

“I think that rationally, he always knew that his parents’ deaths were HYDRA’s fault… but let’s pretend that maybe he did blame you, at first. What was he going to do? Kill a man who had been brainwashed and tortured for seventy years? Tony has a lot of faults, but his heart has always been in the right place.”

And Bucky had to agree. He had always asked himself how Tony could live with him after knowing what he had done, and he had never _truly_ believed him when he said that the Winter Soldier’s actions weren’t Bucky’s fault. He suddenly realized how much Tony could relate to him.

A memory flashes in front of his eyes, one of his handlers talking about Tony’s disappearance.

_“Have you heard? The Stark boy got blown up by his own weapons,” the Asset’s handler commented, laughing. “I bet that was a nasty surprise, finding his precious creations in the hands of terrorist.”_

_“Yeah, I heard they turned him into a vampire,” one of the tech guys jumped in, looking up from the table where he was cleaning the Asset’s weapon. “Shrapnel in his chest, or something. They needed his heart to stop beating.”_

_“Serves him right,” someone sneered, disgust clear in their voice. “His weapons were killing thousands of people and he still went around acting like a jackass, too stupid to even notice. All that potential, wasted. In the hands of HYDRA, he would have-”_

“Bucky! Are you here with me, buddy?”

Bucky snapped back to awareness, blinking rapidly. “Sorry,” he croaked. “Old memory.” He took a deep breath, trying to re-center himself. Steve placed a hand on his shoulder, and Bucky leaned into the touch gratefully.

It was a lot to take in. His entire view of his and Tony’s relationship was shifting, readjusting now that he actually felt like their past baggage was just that: a thing of the past.

He cleared his throat. “So you think that he…”

“I think he likes you just fine, Buck.” Steve smirked, continuing in a teasing tone. “He has been very vocal in his appreciation of your physique, and you’re the only one after Rhodes and Pepper who can actually drag his ass out of the lab without a fight. You guys would be great together.”

Steve cut off with a laugh when Bucky blushed and smacked him upside the head. He started to make a joke about fondue, but with a playful snarl Bucky shifted and slammed him on the ground. Steve started shifting as well, biting Bucky’s ears in retaliation.

They scuffled for a bit, giving Bucky a chance to let go of his pent-up energy and calm his mind, and then fell into a heap on the floor, panting.

“Jerk,” Steve said as soon as he had shifted back.

“Punk,” Bucky replied, the familiar banter finally sweeping away the last of his anxiety. “So you think I should go for it?”

“I’ll be best man at the wedding.”

“I hate you.”

***

Finding the courage to go see Tony was the hardest thing he has ever done in his life.

He spent about half an hour pacing around his floor, trying to rehearse a decent way to explain his feelings without making a fool of himself. He used to be good at this, he knew: he remembered charming ladies left and right, back before the war. Remembered the easy way compliments rolled off his tongue, remembered seeing pretty girls blush and feeling proud of himself when he walked around with one of them on his arm.

Whatever little experience he had with men was much more hurried and hidden. A handjob in the barracks, a guy dropping on his knees in an alley, some vague memories of a soldier in France who had first shown him how good a dick in his ass could feel. He had never needed to seduce any of them: there was nothing romantic about those relationships, just some stress-relief to be found and a willing body to share a bed with.

He wanted to be romantic with Tony, though, wanted to seduce him and make him feel special.

Not that it really mattered: Bucky was hardly the same guy who could once charm strangers with nothing but a glance and a few sweet words, and he knew that Tony had a myriad of past relationships and lovers under his belt.

He could never hope to compete with that.

In the end, he just decided to wing it, and headed down to the workshop before his nerves could get the best of him. He had a general idea of what to say, starting with an apology for his disappearance and (hopefully) ending with a declaration of his love.

When he reached the lab, JARVIS opened the doors for him without him needing to say anything. _Shoot to Thrill_ was blasting from the speakers, and he had to cover his ears against the noise, his werewolf’s senses much more sensitive than Tony’s.

The vampire in question was busy welding something that vaguely looked like one of his suit’s boots, and when he glanced up and saw Bucky his face split into a wide grin. With a gesture, the music stopped, finally allowing Bucky to uncover his ears.

“Hey! Good to see you,” Tony said, with a pleased little smile. He pushed his goggles up on his forehead, shutting the welding torch off and standing from his chair.

Bucky watched him as he walked around the lab, putting stuff away and flicking off some holo-screens, and suddenly felt his heart clench. He really hoped that his feelings wouldn’t scare Tony away. He didn’t want to lose this friendship.

He sighed. “Yeah, sorry about the whole, you know, disappearing thing. I had a bit of a crisis.”

Tony sent him a worried glance, making a thoughtful noise. “Anything I can help with?”

“I mean… ah, well, sort of?”

He winced. He was already losing track of what he wanted to say.

Tony seemed to sense his nervousness, because with a frown he started to walk towards Bucky.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, placing a hand on Bucky’s arm.

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to calm down… and that was a mistake.

Standing this close, Tony’s scent hit him like a freight train, completely overpowering anything else. His wolf basically howled in pleasure, a constant chant of _mate, mate, mate_ in his head. It was so overwhelming that, without even thinking about it, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Tony’s.

The world seemed to screech to a halt, and all Bucky could feel was the softness of Tony’s mouth, and his perfect smell flooding his senses.

Then Tony opened his mouth in a gasp, and Bucky’s tongue flicked out for a taste, and everything came crashing down on him again.

With a growl, he pressed even closer to Tony, encircling him in his arms, and deepened the kiss. Tony shook under his hands and then started to kiss back. Bucky had never felt anything like this: everything in him was completely enveloped by Tony, the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him against his body. He suddenly had the urge to _claim_ , almost losing control against the need to sink his teeth in Tony’s neck and cover him with his body, the wolf in him desperate to mark his territory.

 _Mine_ , he growled in his head. _My mate._

With a gasp, he yanked his head back, chest heaving for air. Tony swayed forward for a second, chasing another kiss with his eyes still closed, before leaning back as well to gulp in some air. His eyes fluttered open and immediately flicked down to Bucky’s mouth, licking his lips.

Bucky trembled, the need to lean down again almost too strong to resist. They stayed in each other’s arms for a few seconds, blinking rapidly and catching their breaths.

Then, “Wow,” Was all that Tony said. He struggled for words, searching Bucky’s face. “That was- wow. Ok, just… _wow_.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, still desperately trying to hold back. He suddenly understood why mated werewolves never left their mates. If that was what a simple kiss felt like, he couldn’t even imagine what an honest to god mating bond would do to him.

Tony was still staring at him, a weird, almost starstruck look in his eyes. “So, this was your crisis?”

Bucky nodded, rubbing his thumb along Tony’s spine, delighting in the knowledge that he was allowed to touch Tony like this, that Tony was _letting him_.

He blushed and lowered his head. “I realized that you’re my mate,” he said, glancing at Tony from under his lashes.

“Oh,” Tony said. Then, “ _Oh_.”

They were both silent for a few seconds, and then Tony slowly started to smile.

“Oh,” he repeated, smiling so wide that his eyes were crinkling at the corners. “I’m your mate.”

The words slammed through Bucky like a physical blow, leaving a path of fire in his veins.

“ _Mine,_ ” he growled, his control finally snapping. He bent down and kissed Tony again, harder and more insistently than before. He pushed him back until they reached the couch where Tony usually napped during workshop binges, and he carefully shoved him down before climbing on top of him again.

Tony lied down and opened his legs, letting Bucky settle between his knees before kissing him again. Bucky leaned back and slowly started to press kisses to Tony’s jaw, his chin, slowly moving his way towards his neck. Tony was breathing heavily, his hands gripping Bucky’s arms, and he kept rubbing up against him, their clothed erections brushing together and making them both gasp.

Bucky slowly started to lower his mouth on Tony’s neck, checking to see if he was going to freak out. Tony tensed up for a moment, before shuddering and relaxing again with a moan. Bucky softly kissed his neck, moving down to where it met his shoulder. He mouthed softly at the skin, careful to not use any teeth.

The taste of Tony’s skin was addicting, just like everything else about him, and he couldn’t help but take a sniff. The smell of his mate was tinged with arousal, sending a zap through his spine. He realized that he had started to half-shift, his ears and tail popping out, and started to lean back to get himself under control when Tony grabbed him and kissed him deeply, mindless of his sharpened teeth.

Bucky almost lost it when Tony leaned back and bared his own fangs with a grin. With a growl, he started attacking Tony’s neck again, nipping at the skin there softly enough not to break the skin but hard enough for Tony to feel it.

He bit down a bit harder, wanting to mark his mate with a spectacular hickey, when Tony froze under him.

“Wait. Wait wait wait!”

With a pitiful whine, Bucky flinched away, ears flat to his head.

“No, no, you’re fine! I’m fine, I just… we should wait before bonding.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, perplexed. “Yeah, I agree.”

“Oh,” Tony frowned. He blinked rapidly for a few seconds. “But you were biting me?” he asked, his voice raising at the end to betray his confusion.

Bucky could feel himself blush all the way down to his chest.

“Yeah, that’s- um, it’s just because my wolf needs to claim you. Mark you as mine. We won’t bond even if I bite you now. We, I mean, I- ah, I need to be inside you for that.”

Tony’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open in a silent _oh_ , a surprised moan escaping his lips.

“Okay, okay, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life, _fuck_.”

Bucky shivered, pleased with himself for making his mate happy. He smirked, bending down to whisper in Tony’s ear. “You can bite me too, if you want.”

The noise that Tony made at that was going to feature in every fantasy Bucky would ever have.

 

They didn’t talk much after that.

***

***

 

Bucky woke up in his bed, feeling sore in the best way possible, and with a sleeping Tony cuddled up against his side.

Trying not to disturb him, he reached for his cellphone to check the time.

His display lit up to show him that it was just after 7am, and that he had two new messages. He opened the chat with a swipe.

_Message from Steve, 10:27pm:   Next time, for the love of god, go to Tony’s room. I can hear you howl, Bucky. I didn’t need that in my life._

_Message from Steve, 10:28pm: Congratulations btw. Told you so, jerk._

He smiled at the screen and quickly sent back a kissing emoji. He put the phone down on his nightstand and turned back to look at Tony.

 _My mate,_ he thought.

 

He could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And thank you for the amazing @Espresso-Patronum for being willing to beta this fic.  
> Hope you guys liked it!
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr [here](http://lunaticalwriter.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated!


End file.
